Flower Petals
by Grave Bells
Summary: Even in death, the little plant was beautiful. Slight CooroHusky. One-shot. R&R.


_**Flower Petals**_

Cooro was always sneaking off at night.

No one ever noticed except Husky, however, as the silver-blue haired boy had found sleeping in their current campsite utterly terrifying. The land was torn by thick, massive trees whose leaf-covered spires blocked nearly all sunlight. The air was heavy, thick, and unbearably humid in the day, and icy, damp and stung at night.

The four of them had been in that same little spot for weeks now, and through their unpleasantly long stay, the gentle purple and white flowers that had grown on what little existed of the forest floor had slowly disappeared. They hadn't wilted away; no, it looked as if something had uprooted handfuls of them at a time. Once the sun set, the usually enclosed buds that lived up and down the massive slabs of bark on the trees twirled open their brilliant honey petals and emitted the most beautiful, radiant glow in the darkness. They lit up the campsite perfectly, at least, until they all began to be plucked away as well.

The last few days of this current week were, in every way possible, horrifying. The last of the pretty blooms had been pulled from the trees, and the moon was slivered to a point where no light shone through the branches. Husky had never been a fan of pitch darkness, even if he had three loving friends by his side. The darkness always seemed to illuminate the movement of animal nightlife, and just the idea of some creature encountering their little campsite was enough to keep the former prince on edge.

One night a week ago Husky had awoken in the middle of the night by the aching scream of a very full bladder, and groggily stood and headed for whatever plant-life was nearest to relieve himself. In the middle of the half-unconscious removal of his body's liquid waste, he'd idly taken notice of Cooro's empty blanket. Thinking the crow might be doing the exact same thing he was in a more secluded spot, he pulled the front of his black shorts back over his exposed body and headed back to bed. Out of coincidence, Husky found himself awake at some point the night after as well, and immediately noticed the absence of Cooro's body in the campsite. As the days went on, Husky's suspicion of his friend grew and grew, and at the same time, Cooro's physical fatigue became more and more apparent. Soon, it became very clear that Cooro was not sleeping.

The first night without any light from the nameless light flowers, Husky was awake to witness Cooro running off. The boy had waited what seemed to be one hour after everyone had gone to bed to pull his blanket off and scurry away through the trees, looking back nervously to make sure he wasn't followed. Husky itched terribly to follow after and see what he'd been doing all these nights, but something held him back. Even now, Husky never followed Cooro out of their makeshift campsite, just sat and waited for his return.

With the absence of the pretty flowers, Nana quickly felt the time to leave that horrid place had come. By the end of week 4, she had gotten into a full-blown, heated argument with Cooro about leaving. The sight had left both Senri and Husky utterly speechless. Nana and Cooro had never, EVER yelled at each other before now. And over staying in this lousy, nasty, wet place? After finally settling down, Husky sat both of them and acted as a kind of discussion moderator. They were to each present their side of the argument, and the remaining two friends would decide which was better supported.

The discussion lasted all of five minutes. Nana had quickly and cleanly presented her case of why they should leave; it was stuffy, unpleasant, creepy, damp, uncomfortable, and they'd lost precious traveling time and were dangerously low on food. Cooro's argument consisted off one repeated phrase:

"_I just want to stay here for a little longer."_

The decision to leave was unanimous. They decided that as soon as possible would be best, and the next morning the group was packed and ready to hike out of that damned forest. Cooro had trudged along behind the group, slouching sadly with his eyes on the path, both thumbs looped into the straps of the bag he'd been forced into carrying for the last half a year. Seeing the boy down pinched Husky's heart, but the decision was made fair and square, no matter how much Cooro wanted to stay.

As weeks wore on, and the group came and went regularly from various campgrounds, Cooro grew worse. Husky, who was now sleeping again, eventually noticed Cooro was still leaving the campsite at night, although for considerably less time. Despite the few more hours of sleep, Cooro was slightly irritable and still constantly drained, as if severely stressed out over something. He'd also become unnaturally protective of his backpack, and it practically never left his gentle care. The way he tenderly handled the bag remind Husky vaguely of the way mothers protected and handled their small children. His change of attitude worried Nana and Senri as well, but no one seemed to have the guts to inquire about it.

One day, a few months after they left the dense forest, a pointless argument about food led Cooro to deliver a fierce slap to Nana's right cheek.

No one in the group spoke for the rest of the night, and a suddenly very upset Cooro had taken to the far corner of their camp to mope about what he'd done in silence. Nana, who had quickly found herself teary-eyed in disbelief, had buried her stinging face in Senri's chest and remained there until bedtime. Husky had merely sat by, his arms crossed and his mind relaying the events of that day.

That night, Husky kept himself awake and very quietly followed Cooro from their campground. Whatever was causing the boy to begin to act so rash was obviously placed in wherever he went every night, and Husky's growing concern allowed him to make a breach of his friend's privacy.

What he found in the nearby cluster of trees with Cooro was not a human, nor an animal. Sprouting from the base of a tree was a freshly planted flower. From his distance, Husky could not make out what kind, but he could tell the poor thing was wilting and very sickly. It's sharp petals were curling under, browning at the tips, and it's stem was weak and beginning to sag. The glow of it's oddly pollenless stamen, while incredibly weak, reminded him of the glowing flowers back in that nasty forest.

As he watched, Cooro bent defeatedly over the little flower and cupped under it's petals in such a way that made Husky think it was the most fragile thing the world had ever created. The crow bent lower, an almost unnoticeable tear sliding from his closed eyes as he brushed the upper petals with his slightly puckered lips. Husky could faintly hear him mutter to the sickly, malnourished plant.

"_Please don't die."_

Abandoning his friend in the trees, Husky walked back to the campsite with wide eyes. The scene played before him had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever witnessed. And yet, he wondered why a dying flower was the cause of all Cooro's stress. It was only a flower, after all.

A week passed and the four had moved camp twice. With each night, Husky followed Cooro to his new secret spot, and with the reappearance of the planted, steadily wilting flower, had come to the conclusion that Cooro had been carting that flower with him the whole time, and dug up and replanted it as they moved. He watched, an odd sadness bestowing him, as the poor plant lost more and more of it's color and strength. Soon, it was almost completely and hopelessly dead. And Cooro seemed absolutely devastated.

The day after was Husky's birthday.

While Senri was preparing dinner, Husky lounged lazily in the branches of a nearby tree, staring idly at the setting sun. The sound of footsteps in the grass caused him to look down curiously.

Standing before him was Cooro, his eyes and nose puffy and red from what had obviously been crying. Clutched between his fists was the sorry little flower, as dead and wilted as ever. It's stem had been cut and separated from it's roots; hope of it's life was now completely gone.

Husky gasped gently and scrambled from the tree, a need to comfort Cooro bubbling up in his chest. But before he got to the point of words of consolation, or even a hug, Cooro held out the little flower and sniffed out, "This is for you."

The fish blinked, glancing between his best friend and the flower. Finally, he plucked it ever so gently from his friend's hands and let it rest in his palms. He stared at it like he'd never see it again; he had never seen it up close.

Even in death, the little plant was beautiful. It's dry petals were oddly triangular, it's points thinning to mere wild, long threads of fiber, most of which had snapped in places. The thin, elegant stamen protruding from the center was dry, flaking off dead pollen, and completely devoid of the light it previously held. The color, though now tinted brown in it's shriveled state, was easily recognized as that of a light purple-hinted blue, with the center around the pollen stalks having faded to a deep blue purple.

The color of Husky's eyes.

The utterly speechless +anima opened his mouth to say something to Cooro about such a gift, and found himself at a loss of time to even find words as the other boy spoke up.

"I'm sorry, I know a dead flower is a horrible birthday present," Cooro said quickly, wiping his moist eyes on his red sleeves. "But before you yell at me please listen!"

Husky shut his mouth. Oops; he's given his friend the sense that he was angry for receiving such a gift. In a way, he kind of was, but after witnessing how his companion had tried to keep it alive had touched him.

"It's a hybrid," Cooro explained, his eyes running across the surface of the flower sadly. "I made it from the flowers in that forest. Back when we were staying in Lacey, I found a book on cross pollinating plants to make new ones."

Husky looked up at Cooro's visage, his eyes wide in unspoken awe.

The boy continued. "I thought I could do it… I raised that little flower since it'd started sprouting. It was really fast at growing; and it was really healthy and pretty…" Cooro suddenly began to break down. His words crackled with the tears that began to leak from his eyes. "I wanted to give it to you. It's color looked exactly like your eyes; I even named it Myrrha! And it was so pretty and delicate, but it's petals were strong and stubborn; it was like it even gained your traits!" By now he was furiously wiping his face to try and quell the water streaming down his cheeks. "But when we left the humidity of the forest it started dying! I didn't know what to do to save it; it just kept wilting and even though I tried to nurse it, it died!! And now all I had to give you was an ugly wilted flower that doesn't suit you at all!"

Husky stared at Cooro's sorrow with his own. He couldn't image how the boy felt; while crying over a dead flower was silly, he knew it was something Cooro would do after all this. He'd poured his heart and soul into this little plant, hoping only to cut it and give it's beauty to a friend, and it died before he could.

It was suddenly the sweetest, most beautiful thing he'd ever received in his life.

"But, Cooro," he finally cooed, a gentle, loving smile finding it's way to his lips. The feeling of its unusual presence on his face felt odd, but at the same time very pleasant. "It's gorgeous."

Cooro looked Husky in the face, wiping the remaining tears from his face. "H-huh?"

"Even though it's ended up like this," Husky started, staring down at the flower held in his palms. "It was the only one of it's kind, and you made it with your bare hands. Just the idea of it is beautiful." He lifted the dry flower to his smiling lips. Boy, he was suddenly feeling all sentimental and emotional. This was not like him at all.

Cooro tilted his head a bit, sniffing. "R-really?"

"Uh-huh," Husky responded, nodding. He pulled the flower from his lips, and suddenly enveloped Cooro in a warm embrace. "Even though it's dead, everything about it says you gave it every last bit of your heart."

The crow found himself smiling gently, tilting his head into Husky's shoulder. He squeezed the other boy back, muttering, "I thought you'd get mad at me for giving you some dead flower. It seems like it'd be kind of insulting."

"Well, in normal circumstances, I would," Husky mused, smirking. "But… It's not a normal circumstance."

Cooro moved to wrap his arms around Husky's neck, burying his face into his shoulder.

"…. Happy birthday, Husky."


End file.
